Friday, May 4, 2012

My First Book Review (Sorta)

Are you familiar with the hottest book in America right now called Fifty Shades of Grey?  It's apparently some sort of erotica novel that has really become quite the hit.  (By the way, "erotica" is the politically correct term for "smut".) Now, I'm not really one to read erotica because it's always so cheesy.  And really, do I care about the story anyway?  If there's sex involved, I don't want to read about other people doing it.  I'd actually prefer that I was a little more involved than that.  But that's just me and it is apparently not the scores of (mostly) women who are lapping this stuff up.  Regardless, I figured I should investigate. 

Let be just be clear about one thing:  I did not buy this book and I did not read it cover to cover.  I merely wandered into a bookstore, picked one up and browsed my way through it. My first thoughts were "What a bunch of crap."  Those were also my middle and end thoughts as well.  From what I can tell, it's pretty much all the same stuff, just in different rooms.   Every page I flipped to they were having sex.  The story is told from a woman's perspective which pretty much explains why there is a bunch of details about what is in the room and stuff like that.  Men don't care about crap like that.  Men want sex.  But I guess women want details about the sorts of sheets that they're going to be doing it on?  (Not any women that I know, by the way.  But I guess other women?)

"I have scissors here.  He holds them up for me to see.  "I can cut you out of this in a moment."  I try to pull my wrists apart, testing my bonds, and as I do the plastic bites into my flesh.  It's sore, but if I relax my wrists, they're fine.  The tie is not cutting into my skin.  "Come with me."  He takes my hand and leads me over to the four poster bed.  I notice now that it has dark red sheets on it and a shackle at each corner.  He leans me down and whispers in my ear, "I want more.  Much more."  My heart starts pounding again.  Oh boy.  "But I'll make this quick.  You're tired.  Hold onto the post."  I have frowned.  Not on the bed?  I find I can part my hands and I grasp the ornately carved wooden post.  "Lower," he orders. "Don't let go.  If you do, I'll spank you.  Understand?"  "Yes, sir."  "Good."  He stands behind me and grasps my hips."  I think that I'm going to stop there.  I'm pretty sure that you can figure out what happens next. 

You know how you can tell that it was written by a woman?  She goes on to describe the bed and the sheets and what's in the room.  I know I'm a woman, but who the hell cares?  Guys don't give a crap about what's in the room.  Guys only care about who's in the room.  As long as there's a chick there, they're good.  And as long as there's a chick there, they're not going to be able to tell you about what was in the room anyway.  I could be filled with gold and if you asked the guy about it afterwards, he'd be like, "What?"  I mean that in the nicest possible way.  Men and women are different.  And I think that we can all learn a little bit from each other.  In this case, it's not important if there is an ornately carved wooden post when you're about to have sex. 

Let's look at another part that clearly exemplifies this being erotica for women:  He said, "What's wrong?  Everything OK?"  "Oh, I was just reading about another measles case."  "Oh, no."  "Yeah.  Fourth case this month.  If only people would get their kids vaccinated."  She shakes her head sadly then smiles."  What the hell is that all about? So they're having conversations about other people not being good enough parents before they have sex?  THAT'S what women want?  Good Lord, ladies.  (Here, let me elaborate a little bit as if this actually happened in real life.  "She shakes her head sadly and smiles.  He nodded as if he was actually listening or paying attention and said, "Yeah."  He read in her inflections that he should probably say "Yeah."  He wasn't really following it.  He just wanted the sex.") 
 
Here's another random passage that I opened up to:  "We finish.  I rise and put my sweat pants back on."  I think that is just hilarious.  And nice job trying to mainstream the sexing up of sweat pants.  But this goes back to this being strictly for women.  (MOST women.  Not me.  Not you.  Just them.)  NO men's erotica (if there even is such a thing) would have the woman wearing sweat pants.  Ever.  No, the men's erotica would have her in a bikini and high heels all of the time because that's what she is most comfortable watching sports in. 

The LA Times reviews this tome and says "Women who consider themselves modest are passing what is essentially a bondage book along to friends and family members with a wink. Grandmothers are discussing the book at family dinners."  Sweet Jesus, I certainly hope that isn't true. I don't want my grandma bringing up bondage at the dinner table.  (And not just because she's been dead since 1985, either.  I don't want anyone's grandma talking about this stuff.)  Can you imagine?  Use your old lady voice and try saying "I do enjoy getting tied up" and see how you feel about it then!  This is probably just wrong in so many ways.  I'm glad that people are reading, though.  So there's that.  Gotta start somewhere, I guess.

Stumble Upon Toolbar Sphere: Related Content

1 comment:

dana said...

so funny